


Feather Tickler

by FieryAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Apologies, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, Caretaker Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Coda, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester's Soul, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, First Kiss, First Time, Forgiveness, Injured Castiel (Supernatural), Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Smut, Tickle Fights, Tickling, Ticklish Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unsafe Sex, kind of, post-episode s15e09 The Trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryAngel/pseuds/FieryAngel
Summary: Castiel and Dean fought their way back from Purgatory, but once they’re home, Cas is too drained to heal his wounds. Dean offers to patch him up and as his hands wander, he discovers something about Castiel he never knew before.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 31
Kudos: 553





	Feather Tickler

**Author's Note:**

> I may have given Cas an extra injury or two and left him hurt a bit longer to force this fic to make sense. It happens.

Castiel stared down at the rip in his pants, dark red blood flowing freely and staining the navy fabric a rich black. His forehead was still sticky with drying blood, that wound clotting on its own. It would only need a little cleaning and perhaps a butterfly bandage, unlike the deep gash in his thigh. 

He and Dean had fought their way through Purgatory looking for each other, and Cas had spent a lot of energy piecing himself back together with his grace after every battle he’d fought and won. By the time Dean found him again and they reached the rift home, Leviathan Blossom in hand, Cas was bleeding in various places and his grace was too drained for him to heal himself.

Once they got to Sam and Eileen, failed at locking up Chuck and made it home to the bunker again, he’d tried to muster enough grace to heal himself from within. When that failed, he held a glowing hand over his wound, but his grace had flickered and burned out, so no luck that time either. It had been happening more and more lately, with the almost total decimation of the angel species and Heaven slowly blinking out of existence. He was draining faster and replenishing more slowly, and though he tried to hide it, he could see Dean’s eyebrows furrow in worry when it happened.

Sam had gone to bed, sad that Eileen chose to take off, leaving Dean and Castiel in the kitchen alone, nothing but oppressive silence and everything Dean had said in his prayer hanging over them. They’d hugged. Forgiveness had been freely given on both of their parts, but now it was like they couldn’t figure out what the next step was or how to go back to who they were to each other were before their fight. Something had changed between them in Purgatory, and now it was like they didn’t even know how to talk to each other. They were walking on eggshells.

“Come on, let’s patch you up,” Dean said, growing tired of watching Cas struggle with his flickering grace. He reached out to lightly tug at the sleeve of Castiel’s coat, coaxing Cas up from his chair.

Cas startled at hearing something aside from his own breathing after what had felt like hours of silence, but he went where he was pulled, following Dean down the dark hallways of the bunker. Cas had always followed Dean, and in spite of the recent friction between them and their brief separation, Cas knew he would always follow Dean.

They hadn’t really talked about what happened in Purgatory when they’d been separated. Dean prayed to Cas, poured his whole heart out and sobbed through it, and Cas had heard every word and hitch in Dean's breathing in spite of barely clinging to his angelic powers. Dean had been relieved to find Castiel, they hugged, and then they were battling for their lives and trying to make it home before the rift closed and trapped them forever. 

Cas hadn’t decided whether or not to bring the prayer up again or wait for Dean to talk about it. Would Dean even bring it up after Cas had hushed him in Purgatory? Did it matter? The words were said, apologies were accepted and they were fine… or they would be, he hoped. Still, he kind of longed for Dean to say something face to face and he was afraid that window had closed.

The way Dean’s hand was wrapped around his wrist, leading him down the hallway made Cas want to push that longing aside so he could be selfish a little longer. He didn’t want to lose the physical contact, to lose Dean, so he stayed quiet and walked on until they reached the bathroom deep down one of the bunker’s hallways. It happened to be the bathroom in which Sam had performed the spell that brought Eileen back to them, and Cas thought there was no better place for healing than within those four walls. 

Dean closed the door behind them, then rummaged through the medicine cabinet, setting a roll of gauze, some medical tape and a tube ointment on the edge of the tub before finding one of his little sewing kits. “Get your pants off, Cas. Let’s see how bad it is.” 

Dean’s tone was even, almost clinical, and Castiel undid his belt and took his pants off, folding them neatly and laying them over the hamper in the corner. He shrugged out of his coat and suit jacket next, then off came the tie before he unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it open. Cas wasn’t embarrassed by his near nudity, nor was he showing off. In fact, he was completely unaffected by his current state of undress. He was simply trying to keep his clothes away from the blood currently running down his leg from where it oozed fresh and thick from the wound in the middle of his thigh. After all, who knew when he’d be strong enough to mojo them clean and whole once more.

When Dean turned to face Cas, he blinked rapidly a few times, cheeks flushing pink, before he cleared his throat to cover up what seeing Cas half naked did to him. But Cas knew he was affected. He hadn't spent over a decade with Dean to not know his every mood and facial tic. He hadn’t spent lonely nights away from the bunker, feeling Dean's longing reaching out across the distance silently begging him to come home again to pretend that what crackled in the air between them didn't mean something. But Castiel was a coward and Dean was too self-deprecating to accept love. Twelve years and he still didn’t think he deserved to be saved. But maybe, just maybe, after breaking down in Purgatory, he was finally ready to open up. Time would tell.

“Have a seat,” Dean said, gesturing to the edge of the tub. 

Castiel lowered himself and clasped his hands in his lap as Dean knelt in front of him with a towel padding his knees and protecting them from the hard, concrete floor. Dean washed most of the blood away from his wounds with a wet cloth, rinsing it a time or two to keep some illusion of cleanliness. Castiel couldn’t help but gasp when Dean leaned in and blew on his heated skin to dry the water the cloth had left behind.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, as his eyes flicked up to meet Castiel’s.

“It’s fine,” Cas replied as Dean busied himself preparing his needle and thread. 

Cas studied Dean's features the way he only could when Dean was too preoccupied to notice his intense stare. His eyes took a slow path from the crooked bridge of Dean’s freckled nose to the stubbled jaw and length of his neck where it disappeared beneath his tee shirt. His eyes were still red-rimmed from his earlier crying jag, making the green of his irises pop with the clash of colors. Dean was beautiful, even Castiel knew that, though his physical beauty had always paled in comparison to the bright glow of his soul. 

Cas sighed at that thought. It had been a few years since he’d been able to see Dean’s soul the way he had when he was at full power. Suddenly melancholy, he wondered how long he had before he ended up being the shell of an angel Dean once met when Zachariah threw him into the future. He hoped he had more time to come to terms with his fate and wouldn't end up the way his counterpart had, drugging himself and copulating with anyone who would have him. That just didn't sound like him at all.

“You ok?” Dean asked, eyes searching Castiel’s.

“I’m fine,” Cas said, looking away before Dean could read the truth in his eyes. For as well as Castiel knew Dean, Dean also knew Castiel. Dean knew the real him, the angel beneath the brainwashing that came as a side effect of being under Heaven’s thumb. No angel in Heaven ever understood him the way this one human understood him. 

“Fine. Yeah, we’re all fine, especially when we’re not,” Dean scoffed. “Maybe you should try opening up. I just did it recently, and it actually kind of helped. Gave me back something I’d been missing for a while.” He let out a little self deprecating laugh before he allowed his eyes to meet Castiel’s.

Cas matched Dean’s small smile with one of his own before he gave in and decided Dean was right. They should start telling each other things, especially now that Dean seemed receptive to hearing him this time. 

“My powers,” Cas finally said simply, then shrugged in an all too human way. As far as opening up went, it was barely anything, but it summed up what was wrong succinctly enough that Dean just nodded. He knew. Of course he knew. 

Then Dean’s fingers were sliding into the crook of Castiel’s knee to adjust the angle of his leg so he could begin stitching the wound, and Cas was suddenly squirming.

“What was that?” Dean asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“N-nothing. I’m fine. Please continue.”

Dean gave him a curious look, but started to work, pulling Castiel’s marred skin back together with small, precise stitches that Cas believed even a practiced ER doctor would be unable to replicate. He made quick work of it, stitching Cas back together the way Cas had done for him the day he dragged Dean out of hell, only with less grace, and more dexterity. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said softly minutes later as Dean spread a thin layer of ointment over the stitched wound and began to unroll a length of gauze to cover it. 

“No need to thank me, Cas. It’s nothing you haven’t done for me a million times.” 

Then Dean’s hands were on him again, ghosting over his skin and wrapping the gauze around his thigh, fingers brushing the crook of his knee. Cas was squirming again, biting his lip to stifle small sounds that threatened to push forth from his throat. 

“Cas?” Dean smirked up at him, a twinkle in his eye that Cas hadn’t seen in months. “Are you ticklish?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean. I’m an angel. Of course I’m not ticklish,” Castiel replied haughtily. 

“No, of course not.” Dean teased, carefully taped the gauze in place, then he smirked at Cas again, an eyebrow raised mischievously. Dean pulled Castiel’s foot into his lap, grinning as Cas tilted his head in question. He tugged off both of Cas' socks, then wiggled his eyebrows at Cas.

“What are you…” Castiel’s entire body jerked as Dean ran a single fingertip from his heel, over his arch, and on up to his toes. 

“Very interesting,” Dean remarked, tightening his grip on Castiel’s ankle when the angel tried to pull his foot back. “Hold still, or you'll pop your stitches.”

Then Dean went for it, tickling the bare foot without mercy until Cas wriggled himself backwards and right off the edge of the tub, landing inside it ungracefully with a thump and the cheerful sound of what could only be described as _giggles_ echoing off the tile walls. 

“Please, no more!” Cas said. He was sitting awkwardly with his back against the side wall of the tub and his feet dangling over the edge. 

He was completely at Dean’s mercy.

“Oh, I think we’re just getting started. You’re _ticklish_ Cas! How come I never knew this?” Dean had pushed himself to his knees and worked himself between Castiel’s parted legs so he could look down at him.

“Because it’s new,” Cas said, a touch of sadness in his voice.

“Because you’re losing your powers.” Dean said softly. It wasn’t a question, just a simple acknowledgment. “And that’s making you sad.”

Castiel nodded and stared down at his lap, unprepared for Dean’s sympathy.

But sympathy isn’t what Cas ended up with. 

“Well, then,” Dean said, thoughtfully, his face set in a determined glare that had the space between his eyebrows crinkling. “Let’s turn that frown upside down!” Dean bellowed before turning his back on Cas and tucking both of Cas’s ankles under one his armpits to pin them there, rooting Cas to the spot as Dean went to town tickling both feet in turns.

Castiel’s uncharacteristic laughter was completely involuntary, ripped from him by the sheer torture that Dean rained down on him. He squirmed and tried to pull free. He wished for enough of his powers to replenish so he could overpower Dean. But more than anything, Castiel laughed and laughed until he was gasping and his ribs hurt.

When Dean finally relented, he turned to face Cas, releasing his legs with a giant grin on his face. Cas couldn’t remember the last time he saw Dean so filled with unbridled joy, and in that moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. 

“Where else are you ticklish?” Dean asked, leaning into the tub and digging his fingers into Castiel’s ribs and earning himself an undignified squeal and a swift kick to his own ribs as Cas tried to wriggle out of his grasp. 

“S-stop! Please! N-n-no m-more!” Cas begged, arms crossing over his body in some semblance of protection, but then Dean just moved on, finding a ticklish spot under Castiel’s chin that had him pressing his chin to his chest as Dean laughed heartily. 

Dean sat back on his heels and Cas gathered himself, climbing out of the tub to glare down at Dean where he knelt at his feet. He had the passing thought that Dean looked good there, on his knees before him, then he was dropping to his own and pushing Dean back onto the floor.

Dean fell with a grunt, then dissolved into breathless giggles of his own as Castiel’s fingers dug in and tickled his armpits. Castiel took advantage of Dean’s weakness, crawling over him and straddling his hips to pin him to the floor, and then his hands were everywhere, pushing up Dean’s shirt to tickle bare skin, finding every spot he could to leave Dean laughing and gasping for air between pleas for Cas to stop.

Finally, he did stop, sitting back to rest against Dean’s hips, grinning down at him. Then they were simply staring back at each other, chests heaving from exertion that had nothing to do with fighting monsters and demons and everything to do with laughing until their sides hurt. It was a good hurt, a good exhaustion, a perfect distraction from what faced them outside the walls of the bunker.

Something shifted between them, a subtle thing that Cas could see in Dean’s face as his smile slowly dissolved from full-out grin into shy smirk. Dean’s body shifted between Cas’ thighs and Cas couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to kiss that smirk right off of Dean’s face.

He descended slowly, forearms pressed to the floor, bracketing Dean’s head as his fingers threaded into Dean’s hair. He gave Dean every chance to turn his face away or press a hand to Castiel’s chest to stop him as he leaned in close, leaving no more than an inch between their lips. Cas hovered there, close enough to show intent, silently daring Dean to close the gap and make the final decision for himself.

“Cas,” Dean whispered in wonder, his breath ghosting over Castiel’s lips and making his body shiver with anticipation. “I _am_ sorry.”

“I know,” Cas said softly. “I’m sorry too.”

Dean nodded, his eyes having gone soft, liquid, and Cas knew in that moment that Dean wasn’t going to resist what they had between them any longer. Whatever crack had formed in Dean's armor was widening with every passing seconds, and he was getting closer and closer to really letting Cas in.

Dean’s fingertips trailed over Castiel’s throat, brushing against his pulse point to sample the rapid pulsing beneath his skin before continuing on to sink into the hair at the base of Cas’s skull. Then he surged forward, pulling Cas in simultaneously, and their lips met in a perfect press, slotting together as if they’d been doing this all their lives.

Dean let out a little groan as his back arched off the floor, pressing his hips against Castiel’s ass and making Cas gasp against his lips and grind down against him. 

“Wait,” Dean said breathlessly when Castiel pulled away from his lips long enough to release a soft, erotic moan.

Cas blinked down at Dean, a frown creasing his brow. “Of course, sorry. I didn't mean to presume,” he said, starting to pull away from Dean.

Dean pulled him back in, kissing him softly. “Wait doesn’t mean stop Cas, just, not here.”

“So you want to have sex with me?” Cas asked with a familiar tilt of his head, ever one to get right to the point.

Dean chuckled and cupped Castiel’s face in his hands, pulling him in and kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re fucking adorable sometimes, you know that? I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a decade, man.”

“I have never wanted my wings back more than I do right now,” Cas grumped, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand to help Dean up from the floor.

The trip down the hall was fast and quiet as they tried not to draw attention to what they were about to do. There was no grabbing at each other or pushing each other into walls to make out every few feet. It was just Cas’ hand gripping Dean’s tightly and tugging him toward Dean’s bedroom. Sam would find out soon enough, and with Eileen off on her own again he really didn’t need to be woken up for Dean’s impromptu coming out party.

They reached Dean’s bedroom after what felt like an eternity and seconds after the door was closed and the lock clicked into place, Castiel had Dean willingly trapped against it. Dean’s touches were no longer light, fluttering things designed to tickle Castiel’s nerve endings and make him bubble up with laughter. Now Dean’s hands pressed into Cas firmly, making him squirm in a brand new way. He writhed as Dean’s hands spread wide over his ribs and his back arched when Dean’s lips wrapped around a nipple and sucked. His skin stretched taught over his ribs with every deep, choked off breath that he sucked into his lungs when Dean’s hand slid between his legs, cupping his hard length where it was still just barely concealed in his boxers. 

Castiel’s shirt fell to the floor as Dean pushed it from his shoulders, then Dean’s lips were dragging across his collarbone, leaving a wet trail of sucking kisses. The kisses continued up the length of Cas’ throat and Cas tipped his head back to expose more skin to Dean’s talented mouth. 

“Dean,” Castiel breathed out on a contented sigh as Dean’s mouth dragged along his jaw, the rasp of teeth over stubble just barely audible over their heavy breathing. “Dean, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg for it, Cas. I’m right here,” Dean answered before Cas pulled him in for a kiss so achingly thorough his toes curled in his boots, reminding him just how fully dressed he still was while Cas was standing there with miles of exposed, tan skin. He nudged Cas backward, pushing him closer to the bed, then shucked off his button-up, leaving it discarded on the floor without breaking their kiss. 

Cas pulled away when he realized what was happening and pushed his hands under Dean’s teeshirt, anxious to get Dean as naked as he was. Dean laughed softly and toed his way out of his boots and socks as Cas’ hands dropped to the button of his jeans, popping it and sliding the zipper down. When they were both down to their boxers, Cas pulled Dean against him again, bare chest to bare chest. It was erotic, the simple act of pressing their bare bodies together, hands roaming over naked skin, tracing muscles and dipping into the curves of lower backs. They kissed, soft and slow, reveling in the fact that they got to do this now. They got to be together, touch and love and be loved, and Cas could feel his strength returning slowly as Dean explored his body. 

Minutes passed as they stood wrapped up in each other, learning each other, and finally Dean pulled away, eyes searching Cas’ face. “Your cut,” he murmured. He brushed his fingertips over Cas’ forehead. “It finally healed.”

“I don’t know how much longer my powers will continue to regenerate. Heaven is still failing and there aren’t many angels left. Maybe we can find Michael and convince him to return, but if not…” Cas trailed off sadly. “Will you let me stay if I end up human again?”

It looked like Dean had been punched in the gut. “I never wanted you to leave last time, I just didn’t know…”

“Shh, I know. I’m sorry.” Cas kissed him. “I just worry about my lack of usefulness. What good am I to you and Sam as a human?”

“Stop,” Dean said, his tone firm, but not unkind. “If your powers blink out tomorrow, it changes nothing. I need you, Cas, no matter what. I’m sorry if I never made that clear. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I only want you around to be extra muscle.”

Cas nodded. He couldn’t say that he hadn’t felt that way, because he had, and often. “You’re forgiven,” was all he could say. “For everything.”

Dean took Castiel’s hand in his, giving it a tug and sitting on the edge of the mattress. Cas followed, standing between Dean’s knees when they parted for him, invitingly. “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me to stop and I will,” Dean offered as his hands slid up the smooth planes of Castiel’s chest. 

Cas nodded in response, gasping when Dean’s fingertips closed around a nipple, pinching lightly and sparking little bolts of electricity that sizzled through his body. “There is nothing I would deny you right now, Dean,” he finally said, his voice rumbling, deeper by a few octaves as his arousal spiked. 

Soft lips kissed across his ribs, sharp teeth nipping at his skin gently, then Dean’s fingers were hooking into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down Castiel’s meaty thighs. They feel free, and Cas kicked them away before tilting Dean’s chin up so he could look into the peridot green eyes he loved so much. The redness and puffiness had disappeared now, a side effect of the return of Castiel’s healing touch, and all Cas could see shining there was adoration and lust. Dean turned his head, kissing the palm of the hand that was cupping his face, and Cas thought his heart would burst with love for this man.

Then his head was falling back as a deep moan escaped his lips. Dean was tired of waiting, and had wrapped a strong hand around Castiel’s hard cock, stroking him expertly. 

“Yes,” Cas breathed out, emboldening Dean enough to lean in and lick him from base to tip. 

Dean took a deep breath, then his lips closed round Castiel’s cock, sucking lightly and eliciting a soft mewl from Cas. He inched down slowly, taking Cas as deep as he could before drawing back and flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot nestled beneath the head. Cas gasped and his knees buckled before he caught himself. His hand came to rest on the back of Dean’s head, encouraging him wordlessly to continue, and he moaned quietly as Dean swallowed him down again. 

Dean’s mouth was so hot, his suction just strong enough to leave Cas panting and struggling not to thrust instinctively into that perfect, wet heat. When Cas finally found the strength to open his eyes and look down, he was met with Dean watching him with his lips wrapped around his cock. 

“Perfect,” he praised, and Dean hummed a pleased sound around him before taking him even deeper than before. 

Dean’s fingers curled around Cas’ hips and pulled him closer, forcing Cas’ cock into his throat, and instead of gagging, he simply hummed around the intrusion, sending sparks coursing through Castiel's veins. Cas pulled back, thrusting once, experimentally, and Dean groaned around him, fingers digging into Cas’ hips to urge him to do it again. A few shallow thrusts later, Dean was pulling off with a pop, panting. 

“Come ‘ere,” Dean said, scooting back further onto the bed and beckoning to Cas with a single, crooked finger. 

Cas crawled onto the bed, hovering over Dean before leaning in and kissing him soundly. He felt one of Dean’s hands ghost down the back of his thigh before hooking behind his knee and coaxing him to straddle Dean’s chest. Then, Dean was swallowing him down again, bobbing his head and applying earth-shattering suction as Cas leaned back, bracing himself with his hands on Dean’s thighs. 

“Dean,” Cas gasped after a few perfect minutes, fingers digging into the meat of Dean’s thighs. “I want…”

Dean pulled away, looking up at Cas through his lashes, eyes hooded and dark with arousal. The head of Cas’s cock dragged obscenely over Dean’s bottom lip as it fell free, leaving Dean’s lips wet and swollen from use. Cas traced the seam of Dean’s mouth with his thumb, groaning when Dean dipped forward and sucked it into his mouth. 

“I want,” Cas started again, becoming distracted by the way Dean was flicking the tip of his tongue over the pad of Cas’ thumb.

“Tell me,” Dean said, voice husky and low. 

Cas shook his head, deciding to show Dean, rather then utter the words, then he was twisting his body, turning to straddle Dean the other way. He pushed Dean’s boxers low enough to free his cock, then bent and took it into his mouth without hesitation, sucking like a man starved.

“F-fuck,” Dean choked out inelegantly as Cas took him all the way to the root, then swallowed around him, the muscles of his throat constricting around his cock deliciously. He gripped Cas’ thighs, pulling him back so he could take him back into his own mouth, and Cas moaned around him, the vibrations making his cock twitch. 

Cas pulled off of Dean's cock, replacing his mouth with a firm hand, then licked his way lower to take one ball, then the other into his mouth. His free hand snaked between Dean’s legs and he pressed a finger to Dean’s dry hole. When Dean gasped then moaned encouragingly, Cas sucked on his finger, wetting it and returned, pressing in just slightly.

“Yessss,” Dean hissed out before following Castiel’s lead. He shuffled a bit, then repositioned Cas before leaning in and licking one quick swipe of his tongue over Cas’ hole. 

“Mmm,” Cas hummed in approval, returning to suckle at the head of Dean’s cock and flick his tongue over the frenulum as he worked a single finger in and out of Dean's ass. 

Dean pushed away the temptation to get lost in the sensations Cas was bestowing on his body and licked over Cas’ hole again. He spread the angel’s cheeks, and dove in, sucking and licking until Cas moaned around Dean’s cock and started pushing back against his mouth, greedily.

“That’s it, Cas,” Dean praised as Cas wet and slipped a second finger into Dean’s ass. He crooked his fingers, and Dean melted, whimpering as Cas began to massage his prostate. His cock twitched and a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, dripping down his length until Cas’ clever tongue caught it, licking Dean clean and swallowing it down. 

Dean has lost himself to the pleasure Cas was dragging out of him and was simply laying back now. Castiel, displeased with the angle, rolled away from Dean and repositioned himself between Dean’s legs, pushing his fingers back inside just on this side of too roughly. Dean cried out, back arching off the mattress from the sting, then relaxed against the bed as Castiel found his sweet spot again and began gliding the pads of his fingers over it. Green eyes cracked open to look down between his legs where Cas sat back on his heels, watching his fingers disappear into Dean’s body as if it was the most beautiful sight on earth.

As Dean watched, Cas leaned in and swallowed his cock down again, punctuating the act with a hard thrust of his fingers. “More,” Dean croaked out, and Castiel’s eyes finally found his as an eyebrow arched wickedly and a third finger slid in alongside the other two.

Castle’s free hand moved between his own legs, long fingers wrapping around his cock as he began stroking himself. Dean was transfixed, torn between closing his eyes and losing himself to the absolute pleasure Cas was giving him and watching Cas pleasure himself. 

“Fuck, Cas,” he gasped out, the tension in his body poised to snap if Cas didn't let up. “You gotta stop… getting too close.”

“I want you close, Dean,” Cas all but growled before dipping his head to suck Dean down once more.

“Cas, not yet, please,” Dean begged, even as Cas hit his prostate in a perfect curl of his fingers that had Dean fisting the sheets and biting his lip so hard he expected to taste blood. “Not like this.”

Cas pulled his fingers free, wiping them on the sheets before sitting back on his heels. “Then how, Dean?”

“Want you,” Dean said, feeling his cheeks warm with a blush he couldn’t contain to save his life.

“You have me,” Cas said with a smirk that told Dean that Cas knew exactly what he wanted. Then his body was covering Dean’s, trapping their hard cocks between them as he kissed Dean, slow and sure. Dean hitched his legs up, opening up for Cas, who took the bait and rolled his hips, grinding their cocks together. Ankles crossed over the small of Cas’ back, then Dean was pushing up against him, meeting each roll oh Cas' hips with one of his own. 

Cas cupped Dean’s face in his hands, leaning in for a quick kiss then leaning their foreheads together, holding eye contact in a way that Dean was sure would make him uncomfortable with anyone but Cas. They were moving together like a well oiled machine, slow and steady, enough to feel good, but nowhere near enough to get off. They were drawing it out, taking their time with each other that neither had ever granted another living being. This meant something, it was more. 

Dean brushed a damp strand of hair away from Castiel’s forehead. He swallowed down the minor heartbreak that accompanied seeing Mr. ‘I don’t sweat under any circumstance’ actually breaking a sweat. It was all too human, and though the idea of growing old with Cas made his heart swell, he worried about how Cas would take it if the day came that he was no longer an angel. 

Cas thrust down sharply, stealing Dean’s thoughts along with his breath. Dean melted into him once again, pressing kisses to his jaw and throat as little grunts fell from Cas’ plush lips with every new thrust. 

“Cas, I want more,” Dean whispered against Cas’ collarbone. “Please.”

Castiel nodded, and Dean just assumed that Cas knew what he was asking for. He reached over to his nightstand, blindly groping for the handle and pulling the drawer open. Twisting awkwardly with six solid feet of celestial being trapping him against the mattress, he finally managed to wrap his hand around the much coveted bottle, then thrust it into Castiel’s waiting hand. 

Cas was sitting back in an instant, the bottle open and drizzling lube onto his fingertips as Dean propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Cas reached between Dean’s legs, rubbing the slippery gel over his hole, then dipping in, to coat his insides. Skilled fingers dragged over his prostate a few times, lighting up the fuse that had fizzled a bit since the first time Cas had his fingers in his ass. Dean’s head tipped back as he rocked against Cas, fucking himself on the fingers of an angel.

“You look gorgeous like this,” Cas said, his voice barely above a whisper and filled with so much awe and adoration, it caused Dean to flush from face to chest. “You’re so at peace, so free. I can actually see your soul again. Barely, but it’s there. I can see the glow. Oh, Dean. Thank you.”

“Didn’t do anything,” Dean countered.

“You opened up to me, body and soul. You let me in, and now I can see you again,” Cas said, leaning in to press a kiss to Dean’s inner thigh as his fingers continued to massage Dean’s sweet spot. 

“Haven’t let you all the way in yet,” Dean joked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Cas shook his head, but his lips curled up in an amused smile. “Soon,” he purred, holding eye contact with Dean to pull him back into the moment with him. His fingers slipped free and he reached for the lube again, spreading it along his length with languid strokes. 

Dean watched, bottom lip snuggly between his teeth and body buzzing with arousal and anticipation. He'd done this in the past in seedy motels after a few too many or backwoods truck stops where men were so desperate for company they’d pay for it, but he already knew none of those awkward fumblings with men would compare to this. None of them were ever Cas. 

Castiel confirmed Dean’s thoughts when he leaned in for kiss then asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Cas. I’m very sure.”

Castiel pulled away, but instead of settling between Dean’s legs, he sat back against the headboard and held a hand out to Dean. Dean took it and let himself be pulled into Cas’ lap, straddling him. Cas took hold of his cock, steadying it, and Dean began to sink down slowly, moaning filthily when the head popped past his rim. Big hands gripped Dean’s hips, holding him in place while he adjusted to the thick intrusion, and plush lips captured his in a kiss so dizzying he found himself relaxing and sinking down further. He didn’t stop until Cas was buried to the hilt and he was resting against Cas’ substantial thighs. 

“Are you ok?” Cas posed the question against Dean’s lips and Dean dove in, kissing him until they were both breathless and desperate to move. 

“I’m good, Cas. I’m very good,” Dean finally affirmed, then he was grinding in Cas’ lap, circling his hips slowly as Cas looked back at him, wonderment written on his face. His hands pressed to Cas’ chest, the angel’s heartbeat fluttering under his fingertips, rapidly. Cas’ cock bumped his prostate on every swivel of Dean's hips, lighting Dean up from the inside out as they both gasp and softly moan into each other’s mouths. 

Cas had his arms around Dean, holding him as close as he can, their chests pressed together, but he wasn't rushing or trying to thrust up into Dean. He just sat back and let Dean take pleasure in his body, the smooth, slow friction enough for the time being.

“You feel so good,” Cas mused. He tipped Dean’s chin back with a gentle nudge, and Dean let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his throat to Cas’ eager lips. Cas leaned in to suck a mark at the base of Dean’s throat, leaning back to watch the blood bloom under the surface of Dean’s skin and admire his work. One side of his mouth pulled back in a smirk as a wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Mine,” he said firmly before dipping in to darken the mark further.

“Yes,” Dean moaned, his hips continuing to grind circles as his hands snaked up to slip into Cas’ thick hair so he could hold Cas in place. “Yours, Cas. All yours.”

Dean’s confirmation boiled under Cas’ skin, and suddenly, the slow grind wasn’t enough. Cas rolled Dean swiftly, depositing him onto the bed and settling between his parted knees. He swooped down, taking Dean’s cock back into his mouth, sucking and drawing him deep into his throat. He bobbed his head, sucking hard until Dean is writhing on the bed and warning Cas that he was close. With that, Cas pulled away, drawing Dean’s legs around his waist and sinking back inside his tight heat.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered as Cas’ cock snugged up against his prostate. 

“If you insist,” Cas teased, withdrawing and thrusting back into Dean, hard.

Dean’s legs tightened around Cas, his ankles crossing in the small of his back to give him the leverage to meet Cas thrust for the thrust. The slight burn he’d felt when Cas initially pushed inside him melted away, the sting replaced with pleasure singing in his nerve endings as they moved in tandem. 

Cas pressed their foreheads together, leaning in for a kiss that was more breathing into each others mouths than anything, but the intention was clear. Cas wanted them as close as possible as he pushed them closer and closer to their climaxes. He groaned as Dean’s fingers dug into his shoulders, his nails dragging along the flesh and leaving faint, pink lines in their wake. He felt Dean clench around him, tightening around his cock and making him gasp for air from the intensity of it all. 

Dean bit back a moan as Cas shifted the angle of his hips and sped his thrusts, nailing his prostate on almost every thrust. “Cas, I’m close,” Dean said as his legs fell away from Cas’ sides.

“What do you need, Dean?” 

“Harder,” Dead pleaded, and Cas complied, rapidly fucking Dean in shallow thrusts that punched beautiful little sounds from Dean’s lungs. He clutched Cas' arm, fingers digging into the flesh of his bicep as his other hand gripped his own cock in a tight fist so he could stroked himself in time with Cas’ thrusts. Cas snapped his hips hard, nailing Dean’s sweet spot, and Dean’s body went stiff as his cock kicked and covered both of them with his release.

“Beautiful,” Cas murmured as he slowed his movements, gently working Dean through the last waves of his orgasm. As Dean went pliant, Cas pulled out and dipped down to lick and suck the remnants of cum from Dean’s spent cock. Dean moaned loudly and squirmed a bit from overstimulation, so Cas moved on to clean up his stomach before moving further north to kiss Dean’s pouty lips.

Dean kissed him back enthusiastically, chasing the taste of himself on Castiel’s tongue while Cas settled between his legs and started rutting his hard, wet cock in the crease of his thigh.

“Get back inside me, Cas,” Dean said. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can finish like this,” Cas offered, ever the martyr. 

“No fucking way. We waited too long for this. Come on, baby, fuck me,” Dean insisted, pushing Cas off of himself and rolling onto his stomach. He canted his hips up and arched his back, knowing just how tempting he’d look in that position, and smiled smugly when he felt Cas settle in behind him.

Cas pushed back inside Dean with a soft moan, then built a steady rhythm, chasing his own orgasm. Dean pushed back against him, meeting every thrust, working to push Cas over the edge. As Cas grew more frantic, fucking into Dean hard and deep, Dean adjusted, keeping up with every slap of Cas’ hips against his ass. When he felt Cas’ hips start to stutter, he clenched down hard.

“Dean, I’m gonna…” Cas gasped out as he tried to pull out to finish on Dean’s ass, but Dean’s pushed back again, keeping him right where he was.

“That’s it, Cas. Come for me, come _in_ me.”

Cas thrust into him a few more times, hands gripping Dean’s hips tightly, then he stiffened and choked out a low, rumbling groan as he spilled deep inside of Dean. He ground his hips against Dean’s ass as he rode out his climax, his hands now sliding over Dean’s back with soft touches that Dean arched up into. Cas’ cock was pushed back inside Dean as deep as it could get when Cas covered his body with his own and brushed his lips between Dean’s shoulder blades. 

He slipped out of Dean gently, then flopped onto his back next to Dean, who immediately tucked himself against Cas' side and threw an arm over his chest. 

“Cas I…” Dean started, then cleared his throat nervously. “I…”

“You don't have to say it, Dean. I know,” Cas said, echoing what he’d said in Purgatory only hours earlier and kissing Dean sweetly.

Dean’s lips curled into a grin against Cas’. “Nope. Not this time. I’m going to say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you, Cas.”

Castiel beamed back at Dean, his heart fluttering in his chest in and all too human way. “I love you too.” 

They still had things to figure out. Chuck was out there somewhere plotting their destruction and the little bubble they were in at that moment was sure to burst, but for now at least, they were sated and content. 

For that moment though, their most pressing issue was the sticky mess they made of each other.

They’d worry about everything else tomorrow, together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment :)


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